Across A Crowded Womb

In my very earliest days, I was a sperm. At least this is what I’ve been told. I can’t say for certain, because I don’t remember being a sperm, and it certainly seems like the kind of thing that would stick in the mind. More unbelievable is the idea that I was one of about a quarter-billion sperm, all darting and wriggling in a frantic attempt to reach a single egg. This is the only part that helps me understand why I have no memory of the whole episode. I don’t like crowds, especially in confined spaces, or where there might be a lot of splashing involved. To this day, I avoid small elevators and public swimming pools. Plus, the thought that I could have out-maneuvered so many other competitors is hard to grasp. Beating out a quarter-billion opponents would be like going on The Dating Game and being chosen by the bachelorette over the entire male population of North America. I never even won at board games like Candy Land or Chutes and Ladders, and those were usually against other five-year-olds.

So how did I manage to break through? I had no advantage over the others. I assume I was just another oval head and long tail. What I could’ve used was elbows. I have them now, of course, but all they seem good for is closing the car door when I’m carrying a lot of bags. They also come in handy when I get a sudden urge to take an extremely sensitive body part and crack it against a sharp edge or blunt object. But where were they when I needed them? With elbows, I might have forced my way through that crowd of sperm in record time. And maybe I would have had more energy to do with the egg whatever it was we ended up doing.

Motivational speakers like to refer to the large number of sperm that are present during conception, working it carefully into their speeches. They do this in order to make audiences feel special. “You were the only ones who reached the goal,” they’ll scream. “You were meant to be here! You’re all amazing!”

I’m not sure how true that is, either. For all I know, sperm have no interest in getting to the egg. Maybe they’re just happy to be out, and aren’t looking for any kind of commitment. It’s even possible that it was the other sperm who bumped me into the egg. I seem to recall hearing muffled laughter, and then a kind of sizzling sound and sparkly things flying around. But as I said, my memory of the actual event is fuzzy.

Either way, there must have been a great deal of pushing and shoving, and frankly, I find that image a little disappointing. Is this really how a human life begins? As a microscopic game of musical chairs? That doesn’t make me feel amazing. It makes me feel that I just happened to be in the right millimeter at the right millisecond. And if there was some force guiding me into existence — if I was meant to be here — then why involve all those other sperm? Why get their hopes up when they never had a chance?

Most of all, where is the grace? And the elegance? I watch flocks of birds and schools of fish — thousands of individual creatures — moving together in synchronized beauty. I see hundreds of sparrows perched on a telephone wire, lined up and evenly spaced. Imagine humans trying to do that. We can’t seem to attend a peace rally or get ourselves inside a Wal-Mart on the day after Thanksgiving without someone being trampled to death. Watch drivers approaching a traffic circle, and you’ll see more lurching, hesitating, and second-guessing than any starling or cod has ever experienced.

The explanation, I suppose, has something to do with our tendency to compete, while at the same time seeking to avoid too much close contact. As a result, we climb over each other to be the first ones into the movie theater. But once inside, we spread out, careful to leave at least one empty seat between ours and the stranger who’s already stuffing fistfuls of popcorn into his mouth.

What does all of this have to do with sperm? I don’t know. Maybe our behavior can be traced back to what took place in that bustling corner of the Fallopian tube. In order to get here at all, I probably had to be somewhat aggressive and opportunistic. And yet, that drive to propel everyone out of my way is gone. I sometimes find myself standing in the middle of a long line, and as soon as a new cashier opens up, somebody three or four places behind me rushes over to be the first one served. I’d never do that. When two lanes of traffic are merging into one, there are always several cars that go right to the front and then cut in, rather than wait their turn. No matter how hurried I feel, I merge patiently and politely. If another customer and I are about to enter the bank at the same time, I always hold the door for the other person, even though I know there’s a good chance I’ll end up waiting behind them for fifteen minutes while they make changes to their checking account and pay all of their monthly bills with rolls of nickels. What if I had behaved this way in my days as a sperm? I could have turned to the guy next to me and said, “Oh, no, after you. I insist.” Then where would I be?

There’s a lesson in here somewhere, and I’m still fumbling around for it. Maybe it’s that there’s a lot to be said for cooperation and sacrifice, but every once in a while we have to do what’s best for us. Even in a huge crowd, blending in may not be such a great idea, and self-interest isn’t necessarily the same as selfishness. Remaining invisible could be the first step toward non-existence. Now that we’re here, it’s hard to even conceive of that.

Thank goodness for Michelle. I was feeling a little awkward being the first one here. Chances are by the time I get done letting you know how much I enjoyed this post, several more bloggers will have made their way to your comments. Turns out you were once an egg as well.

That’s okay, WW — I felt a little awkward writing this post. And when I began, that thought occurred to me, that I was also once an egg. Somehow I lost track of it very soon afterward. Maybe the egg is Part Two?

The topics you find to write about never cease to amaze me. I found myself simultaneously laughing my a** off at the mind picture and questioning the 3 little million to one’s upstairs asleep in their beds. Thanks!

First of all – no one wins at Chutes and Ladders or Candyland. Well, maybe there is a winner in Candyland, but not Chutes and Ladders. You think the game is almost over, and wham – you get hit with the long slide that takes you nearly back to the beginning. “That’s OK, you say to yourself. The kid will win.” Then – wham! The kid gets caught on the slide, too. Noooooo! We’ve been playing for over an hour!!!

Hmmm… I think I got sidetracked.

Charles, the cartoon is hilarious, yet the post is thoughtful and though provoking. (And the swarming Wal-Mart images that popped into my head are frightful.)

I chuckled at the thought of folks spreading out as much as possible in theaters. It’s true. We do. Yet, we race for the door and stuff ourselves through in a bunch. So interesting, Charles. There is a lesson amidst the swarming … I’ll fumble with it a little more, too.

Where do you come up with this stuff? In traffic waiting to patiently merge? 🙂 I hadn’t really thought about sperm competition before, but honestly, it is amazing. A quarter of a billionth chance and here we all are. That explains why I don’t win the lottery. I already won once 🙂 the chances of two wins are astronomical. As a non-competetive, non-agressive person myself, I feel the lines between self-interest and selfishness can get blurry, too. I suppose wondering about it negates selfishness all on it’s own. Wonderful piece, Charles! Keep ’em coming!

Just a few weeks ago, I was wondering about all of those other sperm cells, and I realized that any one of them could have nudged me right out of existence. And, of course, it was the weirdness of the thought that stuck with me. I think the odds of winning the lottery are actually better, but anyone who does win would have had to come out on top in that first crazy lottery, wouldn’t they?

Thanks, as always, for the nice comment, Jessica. I’m glad to know you’ve recovered from the hand injury, and have resumed your weekly column.

Hi,
I love the way you have done the cartoon, brilliant.
A great post, it really does make you think, but I couldn’t help but smile, you have said it all very well.
I love the videos you chose, showing the different swarms, just amazing. 🙂

Loved this post. Thank you for a different look at some of what has made us the way we are … jostling for attention, dislike of crowded rooms etc. Had a good chuckle but it did make me wonder a few things.

“my memory of the actual event is fuzzy” – hilarious! I am always amazed how skillfully you strike the balance between making me chuckle (the cartoon is a good one, too) and think.
I tend to reside at the polite end of the spectrum, too, but merging lanes always make me furious about the people merging too soon, thus creating a longer queue and usually blocking the next intersection/traffic circle in the process. Does that make me a competitive bonehead?

I also love the cartoon, and the videos. Although, the videos make me anxious, and I think that has something to do with my claustrophobia and worrying about the animal in the middle of those swarms. This is a Play On Words Bonanza, Charles, and I love that, as well, naturally! In fact, I got ahead of myself and thought you wrote “In order to get here at all, I probably had to be somewhat eggressive.” Being that I’m Amiable Amiable, I have absolutely no clue how I beat out all of the competitors. It really doesn’t make any sense at all. But I’m glad I did because I’m here and can enjoy reading your hilarious posts!

I didn’t think you could top that cartoon, but you did, and then some. Simply brilliant as usual, Charles. I will forever think of sperm with elbows now. There are just too many lines in this that made me laugh and think. A great combination! I certainly hope you are going to publish a volume two of Who Knew? and include this post.

I don’t know about a second book, Darla, but enough people have reminded me about having once been an egg that I’m feeling a need to write a sequel to this post. Meanwhile, thank you, as always, for your kind words and support.

I think the lesson is that a higher power intended for you, with all your peculiarities and insights and brilliance, to win the race and become the wonderful person you are, Charles. We’re all lucky that, at least once in your life, you kicked it into gear and made it there before the others.

In one concise paragraph, you’ve boiled it down to the essential questions, SDS: Is it a higher power or plain luck? An external intention or internal determination? I thought I was finished wondering about this for a little while, but you’ve got me thinking again.

A Pancake!! LOL!! I just love the way your mind works. If you had elbows you might have banged them, stopped for a second in pain, and lost. I’m thinking that was your secret. Those videos are amazing. I always wonder how they avoid colliding and why we don’t see them stunned and falling from the sky. It is like a perfectly choreographed dance that is mesmerizing.

Love this! I hate crowds too, but you did make me think of Black Friday, and how all politeness goes completely out the window when the toy my kid wants THE MOST is the last one on the shelf. I guess that’s when “my inner sperm” (ok, that was strange) shows itself. Oh, and as someone else mentioned – you are the egg too:) Did I just make some weird Beatles reference there? Hmmmmm….

Just think, before we were sperm and eggs we were probably amoeba. And then we could say ‘Let’s split’! 😉

I love this post… What curious things you think about, Charles. Do they wake you in the middle of the night?

About the chutes and ladders. Would this be the same as the English snakes and ladders? I’ve always wondered why anyone would slide down a snake, but I understand why someone would slide down a chute. Much more logical, even if – as Lenore Diane says – you never win the game anyway!

Just last week I managed to win my first game of Candy Land against a 5 year old. Ok, OK, she was only three – but she’s mature for three.

You make an interesting case against the assumed victory of sperm penetratng egg and creating a life. For all we know, some bully sperm may have stuffed a weakling sperm into the egg like the school bully used to stuff nerds into a toilet in grade school. (don’t ask me how I know that)

You’re only half sperm, Charles! You’re also half egg, and from the way you describe yourself – patiently waiting while everyone rushes around you – you definitely sound more egglike than spermlike. Great writing, as always.

I am definitely one of the idiots who sprints over to get in the new cashier’s line, although I really sincerely try not to be a jerk behind the wheel … but I do love the idea of you sitting in your car patiently letting other people in, ruminating, and coming up with all these brilliant, offbeat queries of yours! Lovely juxtaposition between the competition of natural selection and cooperation — which is looking very much like what may be required if we’re to survive.
THANKS for the beautiful videos at the end … that totally made my day!!!

“It’s even possible that it was the other sperm who bumped me into the egg.” -hysterical!

However, I also wonder what the egg might feel just sitting there and waiting which sperm makes its way through her membrane and having to deal with it whether she likes to or not. (“aw, man, I was really hoping sperm # 13,485,093 would have made it. but whatever!”)

I must confess, Charles, that when I saw the YouTube video titled, “My sperm cells under a microscope…” at the top of your post, I thought, “Charles is a dear friend, but watching a video of his sperm would just be too much information!” Then I realized the aforementioned “my” did not, in fact, refer to your sperm, but to someone else’s. (Let’s just go with that. If I’m wrong and that is actually a video of your own personal sperm, please don’t tell me.)
Once I got past that, the rest was a delightful read, as usual.

Haven’t read through all the comments, but I was immediately struck by the fact that one million sperm are needed because they don’t know where they’re going and refuse to stop and ask for directions. Hence the need for only one or two eggs.

BTW, it was very sweet of you to produced a specimen, just to share with us. They are very agile, rather cute, and only a few of them seemed to be running in confused circles, bumping frantically into each other.

Five or six people have reminded me that I was also once an egg, so let me remind you that half of those sperm cells carry the X chromosome. And I didn’t produce a specimen; I produced a link. Thanks for the comment, Sybil.

Why, just this afternoon a flock of starlings descended onto my lawn, then the neighbor’s rooftop, morphed onto the powerline across the street, all the while my cat’s whiskers chattered uncontrollably!

What brilliant wit you possess, Charles. You had me laughing over your elbows and then positively rolling on the floor over Walmart shoppers.

There are so many amazing sights in nature, Linda, but the way thousands of birds can move together in constantly changing patterns has to be one of the most intriguing. And I bet your cat would agree.

Like you, I’m also too polite and even ask others if they’d like to go ahead of me as they only have one thing. Then, regret sets in. Just as you noted: “I’ll end up waiting behind them for fifteen minutes while they make changes to their checking account and pay all of their monthly bills with rolls of nickels.”
Thanks for the chuckles and the great videos. I love the murmuration – especially the young ladies who are giggling over their encounter with the starlings.

Charles, you creative and successful contact! I watched those videos and did not think of sperm. You did. There’s the difference between having imagination turned on or not! Well done. Thanks for this great writing.

Oh man, no you didn’t include a video of murmurations; I love these things! I’ve shared them on Facebook but haven’t thought about sharing them on the blog yet; haven’t had anything to connect them with. Course you’ve connected them with sperm; I’m scared. lol

I love the contrast between you as the competitive sperm and you as a kindly man being cut off in traffic. If someone is going to stick their neck out on the line and “be selfish”, risk the comfort of invisibility and be called self-seeking, I would like it to be a highly evolved person like yourself who is speaking for the many who have yet to find their voice.

Maybe it’s the writer in me who sees the similarity to getting an agent – there seems to be so few of them and so many of us racing to crack the shell and get our work through ahead of all the others. You also beat many of us to the publication egg as well Charles, so I’m thinking you are a tougher competitor than you want to acknowledge. Bravo!

It used to be that you couldn’t get through to a publisher without having an agent. Now it’s hard to even get an agent to look at your work. Have you thought about self-publishing, Renee? Send me an email if you want to talk about it. mail@mostlybrightideas.com

It’s difficult to even define selfishness. The most noble and generous person must feel a sense of satisfaction — does that make the act a selfish one? I think you’re right, though. The trick is to find the right balance between cooperation and self-interest.

another great post, Charles 🙂 I love the cartoon, it is so funny.. now I start to think that the egg must be very beautiful so that so many sperms try to get close to the egg 😀
Thank you for sharing this, Charles

I’ve looked and looked, in your post and in the comments – it HAS to be there, but I can’t find it. If it isn’t there – well, it’s in your subconscious. I even brought you the Ezio Pinza version, just for the heck of it. That title is one of the best puns ever!

This is a really intriguing article Charles. I’m supportive of what you say. Like you, I am not a fan of massive crowds. It is interesting that people will rush in to get their place when they know that opportunity is brought to them. It’s very good of you to be patient and let things happen, whether or not it means you wait more in those examples you used. I hope we all don’t result to being invisible!!

Whenever I think about such things I always reflect on how inefficient life is. Whether you believe in evolution (“after all these years, how could a process as basic as the beginning of a new life be so inefficient”) or in a creator God (“why would an all-powerful, all-knowing God create such an inefficient system”), it just doesn’t make any sense.

I’m still too busy laughing helplessly at the title of this post to fully appreciate the greatness of the post itself. Charles, you have the most splendid mind. Thank you for inflicting it upon the rest of us.

Simply Brilliant Sir Charles! Loved it. 🙂 Now I have something to reply to those motivational speakers; who have not achieved anything good for themselves except trying to motivate others, by “You were the only ones who reached the goal”. 🙂

I am just visiting your site for the first time and your blogging grabbed me, hung on tight and made my eyes stick to the words like glue as I laughed my way through your mind…wow! You are such an incredible writer and i can’t wait to read more!

You had me with the opening “cartoon.” I can’t say that I’ve ever thought about that moment of conception (I guess being the egg and just waiting around for the “right” one to slip through the crowd is much less stressful), but I’ll be thinking about it now! This made me chuckle, but it also made me ponder … thank you for another exceptional piece of writing!

A few years ago (many years ago) there was a public transport strike of tram drivers and conductors in my city. Watching a hundred odd bodies trying to push their way into a 40 body bus was some experience. Your article has really cleared things up for me. Thanks.